Chapter 45: 1740 The Only Way Out
He felt, that he woke up long before he was able to open his eyes. His tongue was dry and his lips felt rough and chapped. Every single breath burned within his lungs and he felt totally tired and torn.
The awakening was much more painful than the falling asleep had been.
When he finally succeeded to open his eyes he had to realize that it was dark all around like in the deepest night. As much as he tried, he saw nothing but the wafting darkness which surrounded him. The cranked room he was locked in made it impossible to move and it was filled with smelly, moldy air.
He panted for air and had to fight the rising nausea.
A silent noise was to hear from outside – damped because of the wooden cage he lay in. It sounded and felt like waves rolling against this strange prison-cell. Slowly, with every breath he took he regained another part of his memory. When Jack finally came around it felt as if the pain wanted to tear him apart.
Oh yes, he remembered everything!
He lay within a coffin and he wasn't alone. Too many men died within the dungeon he escaped from – of effeteness, malady, torture or hunger. So without further ado they threw two of those poor souls into the simple and quick assembled coffins. For the dead weren't meant to be buried or burned they were thrown over the cliffs and left to the waves and the current.
Jack knew that it couldn't be much more than half a day that he was floating in the sea. According to that he still had to be located next to the Turkish coast. That meant his crew and the "Pearl" to be at close quarters and to get him out of this horrible prison hopefully as soon as possible.
Within the dark his hand felt its way to a Something with he supposed to be hidden in one of his pockets. Breathing a sigh of relief he found that Something right in its place. For now there was nothing to do for him but hoping that this thing within his pocket was worth the effort – the putrid smell, the pain and the way he had to take flight...
Madagascar didn't pass him without leaving its marks on him.
To the amazement of his crew Jack had left the helm to Cotton until they had reached the Mediterranean Sea. He appeared on the deck infrequently and not even Gibbs and van Dyck knew why he spent most of his time within the chart room. Jack was aware that his crew wanted to know where he planned to lead them next.
Since the adventure on Isla de Muerta they hadn't been out for a treasure hunt anymore and only a few of that immeasurable riches had found their way aborad the "Pearl" – not only by reason of superstition. His crew expected a treasure or an acceptable prize and every man aboard already deserved it.
The encounter with the pirates at the fortress of Madagascar had left him pensively.
This little group was at odds with each other and that fact made them an image which was valid for the most pirates sailing the seven seas with or without a Letter of Marque yet – they were at variance with each other and the English had plain sailing.
Jack didn't know how to change that, for the most of them – his own crew included – were only interested in the next day or the next prize. Maybe there were a handful amongst his men who would trust him blindly and follow him in whatever he wanted to do, but he didn't want to count on that unconditionally.
At the moment he was dealing with the question what would happen next. As soon as they reached the Mediterranean Sea they had to get a hold on finding that dungeon and the man who was imprisoned within it, supposed not to grow old and to be in the know of how to find the only vulnerable spot of Davy Jones...
It had not been a problem to find the dungeon near the Turkish Coast. The compass led Jack directly to it and from that moment he had to face everything what might happen on his own once again.
Except of van Dyck no one knew why he was willing to break into a prison. Even Gibbs he had told only a little part of the truth.
At any rate they all agreed that they would take him aboard again within a week. Jack was convinced not to need more than a week to break into the prison, find the man, find what he was searching for and break out again.
He didn't dare to think about what would happen to him if he got caught...
Indeed it had been easy to get into the dungeon.
Like nearly in every port so it was right here: he came across someone who was convinced he had to settle an open score with Jack Sparrow.
Sometimes Jack asked himself how many lives he must have had so far, thinking of all those figures he supposedly had alienated. He wasn't able to remember the most of them, although it was really helpful in that case.
It had been much more awkward not to lose his head while seeing and hearing what was going on within that dungeon. Fortunately he possessed the unique talent to negotiate as long as they left him alone again, but what he saw when they dragged him to another interrogation let him doubt everything he ever heard about.
Torture and humiliation of all kinds were usual and those who didn't die whilst such an interrogation suffered a not less cruel death.
Jack was spared from torture and death because of only one reason: he claimed to be able to find out within a week why that mysterious prisoner didn't grow old...
"You're not in here for long, lad, aren't you?"
The voice out of the dark sounded neither old nor young. It seemed to be untouched by time as well as by the place they were situated at the moment. The same applied to the man's face. In his eyes there was a peculiar fire, the same youthful and as if he had seen more than lasting for only one life. How long ever he might have sat within this cell, nothing suggested on his age.
"No, only a few days." Jack answered: "But you're much longer within here in exchange, am I right, mate? That's what the rumor says. They also say you were sitting in this cozy cell because your hosts fear you could be an evil genius. One of those who can't die, because its soul is cursed."
"Do you believe in such idle talk?"
"Me? No, mate! Even if it would be true...Can tell you, it wouldn't be the first time that I came across someone whose life took a course in a different way...You understand what I want to say? No, that's not why I'm here. I'm here because I want to know how I will be able to outplay Davy Jones! Savvy?"
A long silence followed his plain-spoken answer. Somewhen the stranger laughed and it sounded as if it was not of the real world.
"You want to outplay Davy Jones? A man, every sailor absolutely insists, that he was brought to life by the sea itself? Impossible!"
"Who if not me shall do it, mate? I'm a child of the sea as well. I was born aboard a ship, whilst a typhoon tore up the canvas and fell the masts. The sea was my first love..."
"...And now you're willing to antagonize your former love?"
"I know the sea goddess, I know why she hates nearly every sailor, and I know what bonds her and Davy Jones."
"Are you sure", the stranger asked brooding: "Hmm, who knows! Maybe you're really the one who can outplay Davy Jones. But what do you want from me, son?"
"They say the only way to Davy Jones' secret leads across you, because you're the only one who's in the know how I will be able to find the Dead Man's Chest and the key to it."
"By all water spirits, lad, you seem to be a very special young man."
"All I want is to regain my peace of mind!"
"How will you do that if you're not even aware what you really want?"
"What do you want to tell me? For sure I'm in the know of what I want!"
"Is that so?"
Jack didn't know what to think about that. He had always been aware of what he wanted. There were only two things he had in mind: He wanted to get rid of the bargain he struck with Davy Jones and he wanted to sent Lord Beckett to hell...
Was there any doubt about it? Was it really the truth? Was it really all he wanted?
"You paused already too long, son. But I don't expect you to understand me right now. You will come to know what I meant, if it's time to."
"Why does it occur to me that the world is filled with mysteries? Every answer I get to my questions includes a new mystery."
"That's because the whole world is a mystery, because it's built on mysteries. Tell, me, son, are you really interested in knowing every answer to every question round the world?"
Jack shook his head and the stranger continued: "You refused to be told your future. Not once – twice! That's true, isn't it?"
Jack panted for air: "Wherefrom do you know about it?"
"If you will listen attentively, the swoosh of the sea and the whisper of the wind will tell you a lot of stories. And for you're really a child of the sea, they told me something about you, Jack Sparrow!"
"The swoosh of the sea? How can I be sure, that you don't know me?"
"I have already been imprisoned within this cell long before you were born, son. Believe me, the sea goddess is well-disposed to you. Or how would you explain the fact that you have been a brilliant sailor while being still nearly a child, that you're able to sail your ship through the wildest storm without losing it, that it costs you a lot of effort to stay ashore for longer than a few weeks?"
"Never thought about that, mate, but I've another problem at the moment."
"You want to know what the meaning of that key is."
"Aye! Do you have it?"
"Don't know what they told you about me, son, but I can't work wonders. All I own is a fading drawing of that cursed key. But I'm not sure if you're the one I should pass it to!"
"Every sailor fears Davy Jones and the everlasting perdition within the white desert of his locker. I don't fear the man, I only fear the white desert..."
"Not every man senses the locker as a white desert, Jack Sparrow! Others will suffer from something different within it."
"The fear to end there is the same, mate, unless you are willing to hire on the cursed ship – a hundred years aboard the "Dutchman". Sounds inviting, what do you think?"
"The "Flying Dutchman" wasn't always cursed, son. She had a purpose once."
"Then I'm in the know why I need the key – it's not only to save my own soul. I could end the terror threatening the seven seas."
"Those challenges are bound to conditions – do you think you're willing to fulfill them?"
"If it's time...Maybe..."
"I don't know if you are courageous or if you're only a cunning, slyly pirate, but your future implies some secrets which will possibly give this story a new turn. Is's regrettable that you're not interested in finding out something about your future."
"As you said, I refused it long ago and I refuse it now. The way it will happen it shall happen."
"Well, I will give the drawing to you, son, but listen to me: play your role as long as ever possible! And for sure it is a role, because you're not the fool you love to play in the company of others..."
"Wherefrom do you know that much about me?"
"I can read within people, Jack Sparrow, within their hearts and within their souls. Yours isn't as black as you want to make believe others. Take care, that you won't pay the highest price for your effort to hide the truth! But enough about this! It will be your decision, what will happen to you and therefor it's time for you to leave this dungeon, son..."
The escape from the dungeon wasn't as challenging as that weird stranger had supposed it.
Before Jack went ashore he had hidden a little vial in his sash which he got once from Tia Dalma. It was filled with a clear and bitter liquid which made sure that he lapsed into a kind of apparent death. After drinking it he had been unable to move, to speak or to do anything else for a whole day.
What she had not told him was, how painful it would be to wake up again...
First he thought the noise which brought him back to the here and now must have been an illusion, a hallucination owed to the effect of the sleeping draft, but it recurred with an unusual persistence.
In a sudden amazement he thought somebody could try to break open the coffin. What if they found him alive? He would end up in that horrible dungeon again – without any hope for another escape.
So he felt for his pistol, aimed it towards the point the noise came from and shot. A hoarse caw was to hear, then a flutter and a swash as if something thudded to the water surface.
As soon as there was a hint of fresh air stroking over his face he decided to search for the "Pearl" on his own. With some effort he succeeded to open the cover of the coffin.
The air! The sea!
He had a relieved look around – only a dead crow floated upon the water. It had been the troublemaker!
For a moment he hesitated when he thought about how to get to the "Pearl", but there was only one way: he grasped into the coffin once again and with a ghastly crack he unearthed one of the skeletonized legs of his unintended companion.
"Sorry, mate!"
With it he had a view at his compass and rowed as good as possible towards the "Pearl".
